Glass Houses
by nancy777ca
Summary: A RyanOFC. I enjoy writing and reading OFC's. My original female is Seth's sister. The title comes from the saying 'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones' this definitely applies here. Hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Did you really kill a guy with your car?" Wide blue eyes stare up at Margaret Cohen and for a second, she's tempted to say yes as this little boy so clearly wants her to. When did kids become such a bloodthirsty bunch? She wonders, fighting a curve of her mouth at the memory of just this morning. But really, it wasn't quite the same getting a kick out of repeatedly chopping your brother's head off. It was only a video game after all.

"Who told you that?" She asks, evading the question. She pulls the bandage tighter around little Robbie's wrist and fastens it.

"Jessica. She said that you ran him over and now he's dead. Did you really, Doc Marty?" His eyes are filled with gory anticipation.

"Ah Jessica, little socialite homewreckerslashpillpoppinggossipintraining." Marty mumbles remembering the spoiled little blonde.

"Huh?" Robbie asks, his experiences with said socialites being limited to his pill-popping mommy.

"All done." Marty steps back and sends him back to his real doctor, Dr Matthews.

No, she hadn't killed Luke. Merely rear ended his Porsche. Repeatedly. Garnering herself community service as opposed to a murder conviction. Asshole deserved it and in principal, her parents had agreed with her. Lawfully though was another matter and daddy being a lawyer and all, it wouldn't look so nice if little girl didn't pay for her loosely termed crime.

It was either volunteer at the hospital or pay a hefty fine. Marty wouldn't lower herself to that. If she paid the fine it would be the same as admitting she was wrong and would they all take this bribe to make everything all nice and rosy again? Not hardly. She'd take her punishment. Hell, she'd eat dirt before she admit that she shouldn't have wrecked that spoiled jackass's car. Nobody messed with her family and she'd taken all she was gonna take of that Neanderthal picking on Seth.

She was a week into her community service and all in all, Marty had to admit that it was kind of fun, especially having the younger kids think she was a real doctor. Not that it was even a desirable career option. No, thank you. For all her violent tendencies, blood and guts made her queasy.

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Marty spies a young woman crying in the waiting room. That was another reason she had no desire to be a doctor. For as much as Marty enjoyed helping people, there were those moments when the doctors do all the can and the patient is beyond hope. To have to face those left behind...Marty shudders.

"Father knocked the kid down the stairs. Paralyzed probably. No insurance." Amelia, the curly haired elderly nurse, who kicks Marty's ass repeatedly at poker, explains. "Same old, same old." Marty feels a new burst of anger.

"Some people don't deserve to be parents." Marty seethes, comforted in the fact that her own family life is a safe one, full of love. She comes into the administrative office and sits down next to Amelia so the crying woman doesn't see Marty dig into her purse for her check book.

"Margaret Cohen! What do you think you're doing?"

"Shh!" Marty insists peeking over the wood panel to see if the woman was paying them any attention. She wasn't. Marty slides the cheque over to Amelia.

"You can't solve everyone's problems with a check, dear girl." Amelia reminds her as she looks for the insurance forms for the little boy.

"I can try. Besides what else am I gonna do with it?" Marty whispers.

"You're parents are not going to be happy."

"Yes they are. I'm a brilliant child." Marty tosses the old woman a smile and a wink and then heads for home.

She'll make that money back in a couple of birthday's, Marty knows. No. She can't save the world. But she also can't stand by and watch some one suffer because of a lack of something she has in abundance.

" 'Night, Ms Cohen." Adam, the guard at the gate waves her into the gated community she calls home. As she pulls up to her house she yawns. Her bed is calling her name but a stronger urge is pulling at her. She locks her car in the garage and heads over to the pool house. Her fingers are itching to dance over a canvas. Half an hour, she'll allow herself only that. Enough to settle her unease and drive away the sad thoughts.

It works every time. Long black hair tied back, she slips on a paint splattered t-shirt. She goes out next to the pool and lets her fingers slide over the white paper that looks silver in the light of the moon. She doesn't need to see what she's painting. A lot of times it's more fun to paint in the dark and see what she's created in the morning. Within seconds, her tension is being released onto the easel. Painting is the only that calms her most of the time. Her mind slows and peace washes over her. Her mother bought her a new set of brushes but sometimes, Marty likes to paint with her fingers. Tonight, she needs to feel the stickiness of unknown colours on her fingers.

When her eyes start to drift closed, Marty knows it's time to call it a night. She cleans up and then debates going across to the house or simply crashing here. Her parents won't worry if she isn't in her bedroom. They've found her curled up here many times.

When not in use, the pool house doubles as Marty's studio. Her own private place where she can work in relative comfort, undisturbed.

She's barely aware of crawling into the bed before she feels the wonderful pull of sleep. Marty stiffens at the feel of warm skin against her back and the sound of deep breathing.

She is not alone.

There is someone else in the bed with her. Forcing herself to ignore images of Seth's comic book monsters, or evil demonic entities, Marty turns to face whatever is behind her. Coming face to face with a strange, sleeping male face. Marty begins to scream.

Wide blue eyes open in surprise and they both bolt off the bed, falling on opposite sides.

"Who the hell are you?" They both demand at the same time.

"I live here!" Marty replies she's searching for any sort of weapon under the bed and her fingers come grip one of her brother's golf clubs. For a moment, Marty is glad for Seth's habit of putting golf balls out through the door and into the pool. She swings at the man, taking in briefly that he seems to be roughly her age. He ducks, just barely escaping decapitation.

Marty runs after him. He's dressed, or undressed, as the case may be, in a white under shirt and white/or is it yellow? boxers. He ducks behind one of her canvases and picks it up to ward off another coming swing. She stops short of connecting, reluctant to rip through her painting.

He seems to take this as a good sign and holds the canvas close to his head to protect himself. He peeks out at her from behind it.

"Mr Cohen said I could stay here for the weekend. You can check with him. Now put that damn thing down!" He orders.

Marty pulls back and then narrows her eyes. "You first." She counters waiting for him to let go of her painting.

"Together. Deal?" He asks beginning to lower the painting.

"You're a friend of my dad's?" Marty asks him, slowly lowering the golf club.

"He's my lawyer." He shrugs. The commotion must have carried to the house cause she could hear people making their way to them.

"You're a criminal?" She asks raising the golf club again.

"He's letting me crash here. Relax!"

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddyyyyyyyyyy!" Marty screams angrily in a shriek that makes the not-so-much-intruder, jump and cringe, pressing his fingers to his ears.

"Oh no." Kirsten Cohen groans when she turns on the light.

"Who is this guy?" Marty demands, irritation overcoming her panic. Her mother rolls her eyes and turns to her husband.

Sandy Cohen enters the room followed by her groggy sixteen year old brother, Seth. "This is Ryan. He'll be staying with us for the weekend. I called and left a note for you at the hospital." Her father informs her.

"Well surprise, I didn't get it!" Marty throws the golf club on the carpet. "Jesus H. Christ." She shakes her head and drops onto the edge of the bed. "I nearly whacked his head off. Sorry about that by the way." She turns to the intruder/criminal/guest. He nods and then shrugs. Hmm. Not much of a talker, this one, Marty notes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

She just wants to take a peek, she tells herself. Marty almost forgets to knock on the pool house door. She never had to knock before and is vaguely irritated that she has to remind herself to do so now. She's left last night's canvas to dry and she wants to see how it turned out. It has nothing to do with the rather surly yet 'ifshehadtoadmit' kind of handsome houseguest/criminal.

Nope. Not a thing.

But she finds herself holding her breath after she knocks on the glass door.

He's barefoot, wearing black sweatpants that never looked that way on her brother and a white wife beater. His sandy blond hair is tousled from sleep and Marty feels a little shiver go through her. _God what a cliche! Hot for the bad boy. Try something a little more original, Marty! _She blinks when he opens the door and watch as he squints against the morning sun. Blue eyes. Of course he had to have blue eyes, her weakness.

"Morning." She says, trying not to sound too cheerful.

He mumbles something that might have been 'morning' in return.

"Uh...if you don't mind, I'd like to take a look at one of my paintings. I left it to dry last night. I hope my stuff's not in your way." She offers crossing her arms on her chest.

"Oh. Sure. Right." He steps aside to let her in. She steps past him and smells his sleepy scent.

Paintings. Right.

She forces herself to focus on the canvas she 'd covered with a sheet. It's slightly askew and Marty turns to Ryan. Again, he shrugs.

"I hope the turpentine didn't get to you. I'm the only one I know who actually likes the smell." She smiles with approval at the painting. A mix of red, blues and browns in curved intertwining lines with a strange sort of connectedness that she knows only she can see. She likes the paintings that don't make sense the best. They're like her own little secret.

"Nah." He assures her. "I'll be out of your way by Monday."

"My folks told me about your mom. That sucks. What happens if you don't find somewhere to live by Monday?" Marty asks him. Her father had explained that Ryan had been dragged along with his older brother to steal a car. Sandy had been assigned as his public defender. Mommy had taken the boyfriend's side after the guy had beat up on her son and kicked Ryan out. He called Sandy for help and her dad offered him the pool house for the weekend.

And people asked where Marty got her bleeding heart.

"Don't worry. I won't be sticking around." Ryan assures her and Marty realizes how her comment was misunderstood.

"Oh no. No, I mean. That's not what I-are you hungry?" She suddenly asks him before she can make a bigger ass out of herself.

"Not really." He says turning back towards the bed and beginning to straighten the pillows and blankets.

A grumble from his mid-section gives him away.

"Liar. Come on. Before my dad inhales all the bagels. Coffee, black, no sugar right?" She smiles at him and Ryan looks at her in surprise.

"Right." He confirms with what almost passes for a small smile.

"Of course. Cream and sugar is for pansies right?" She jokes. The smile widens and Marty's chest tightens pleasantly.

"Good morning, sibling. Houseguest." Seth pops up behind Marty and nods at Ryan. "Marissa called. Reminding you about your last minute fitting before the big hulabaloo tonight." He tells her.

"Uh, please. No Cooper talk before breakfast." Marty grimaces.

"Hey, Ryan. You should definitely come. Obnoxiously wealthy people being all philanthropic and smug." Seth informs him. Ryan pales uncomfortably and Marty feels a pang of sympathy for him but it's outweighed by her desire to see Mr Bad Boy all done up and devastating in a tux.

"Thanks but I don't think it's my thing." He informs Seth.

"Are you kidding? A chance to mock the natives in their natural habitats? 'Tis not to be missed, Mr Atwood. Believe you me. Besides Marty here needs a date-"

"Thanks." Marty swats her brother with a paint brush.

"And I need someone for whom my mocking will seem fresh and witty."

"I think I'll pass all the same."

Marty tries to ignore the insulted little knot in her stomach. She could find her own dates anyway. If she wanted to date any of the pigs around here.

"If you're worried about an invite, I'm sure Marty here can finagle one up for you seeing as she's in the show."

"Did you just say finagle?" Marty asks her younger brother, cocking her eyebrow.

"What's the occasion anyway?" Ryan asks.

"Fashion show to benefit some homeless kiddies. Run by the aforementioned Ms Cooper. All an excuse to charge a thousand bucks a plate for one rice grain, a wishbone and a sprig of parsley. Trust me. You must attend."

"Don't want to impose." Ryan insists.

"Oh you won't be." Marty assures him quickly, already picturing how he'll look in a suit. "You just might make this evening tolerable." She admits with a small smile.

"I don't have a suit."

"Finagling runs in the family." Seth assures him.

Something flickers in Ryan's eyes that hits Marty deep in the stomach and she wonders if she looks too hopeful.

"All right. I'll go. Just so you guys won't think I'm back here stealing the silver."

Seth laughs brightly. "Our houseguest has a sense of humour."

The boy has a healthy appetite. Marty'll give him that. She tries not to watch as Ryan eats. He's trying not to inhale it all as if it'll be his last meal and her heart breaks for him just a little bit more. She tries to keep a detached air. She trusts that her father wouldn't have brought some criminal lunatic into their house and Marty wants to feel some objective distrust but there's something about the guy that just tugs at her. She's a big ol' softie is what she is, Marty decides.

Her father assures Ryan that he can get the younger man a suit and insists that Seth has made the event sound worse than it is.

"No he hasn't." Marty pipes in.

"Well, either way. Thanks." Ryan says with a shrug.

"We'll pick up a suit for you this morning when we pick up Marty's gown."

"Great and I can get in a few more hours practice of falling on my face before I get to do it in front of all of Newport society." Marty grumbles.

"See? That alone should make tonight worth the price of admission." Seth cracks at Ryan.

Seth kept up a rambling monologue on the way to the boutique about who Ryan could be expected to meet tonight.

They had concocted a story that Ryan was the Cohen's cousin from Boston, come to visit for the weekend to explain his sudden appearance.

"That should keep tongues from wagging." Kirsten explains as they get out of the car.

"In this town?" Marty asks walking behind her mother.

Ryan stiffens with unease and Marty shrugs sympathetically. "Don't worry about it. They're like a pack of dogs really. They'll sniff you for a while and if you don't do anything to stand out they'll move on to fresher meat."

"Oooh, that reminds me. Can we stop for lunch?" Seth asks as they wait for DeeAnna Malton to greet them.

"Kirsten, it's so nice to see you. Would you like some coffee? I'll have Arabella get your dresses, Ms Cohen. How are you?"

Marty doesn't even bother opening her mouth, as she knows the question is a mere formality. DeeAnna turns back to Kirsten. "You must be so proud of your daughter. Tonight is shaping up to be the event of the season. And for such a good cause. It's so wonderful seeing our privileged youth doing their part to help those less fortunate." As if she had 'poor-man's' radar. She zeroes in on Ryan and the wide white toothed smile wavers slightly. "And who is this?" Her green eyes took in Ryan's faded jeans and worn sweat jacket.

"This is Ryan. He's from Boston." Marty explains stepping closer to Ryan who looks as if he's about throw up. The arm she wraps around him is strictly for friendly support, of course.

"Go Red Sox. Right, Cuz?" Seth goes to playfully punch Ryan's shoulder but Ryan cock's an eyebrow at him and Seth thinks better of it.

"Oh you're family? How nice. Please do have a seat, Kirsten. If you'll excuse me. I'll got see where Arabella's gotten to." In a whoosh of Chanel, she was off towards the stairs.

"Ten bucks she's on the phone right now three way-ing her way across all of Newport." Marty says crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll take that action." Seth agrees.

A.N: Thanks to everyone for their feedback so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Mom?" Marty asks from inside the fitting room. Her arms aren't long enough to do up the rest of the gown and she's trying to keep a tight lid on her frustration. "Mom, can you get in here? I can't get the back of this stupid thing--"

"Uh, she forgot her purse in the car," Ryan replies uncomfortably from the other side of the partition.

"Dammit." She slowly pushes aside the curtain and peeks her head around, keeping a tight hold on the bodice of the dress against her breasts. Oh. Marty thinks as her entire body jumps beneath her skin. Bad boy cleans up nice, she notices with a little shiver as she takes in Ryan in his tux.

He starts a little, his eyes widening as he takes in her disheveled state. "I...you want to wait-- Sure." He decides with a shrug.

Marty turns her partially bare back to him before he can see her blush. Oh for God sakes, stop acting like a damn thirteen year old with your first crush. She stiffens at the feel of his fingers on her skin and something inside of her melts a little. Is it possible to melt and charge at the same time? Marty wonders.

"Sorry," Ryan says softly and Marty's breath catches at the warm heat of the word at the back of her neck. "Cold hands."

"Well, you know what they say." How on earth is she forming sentences? His hands do up the row of buttons to her collarbone and she gathers up her hair for him to do the last few.

"About what?"

"Cold hands, warm heart." Oh my God, shut up, Marty. Just shut up and stop saying words.

But he gives a soft laugh behind her and Marty smiles with relief. "Haven't heard that one before. There. Done."

Marty squelches a whimper of disappointment. She gives herself a mental shake and forces herself to say thank you.

"Oh, don't you two look adorable!" Kirsten exclaims coming into the fitting area. "Dresses are paid for. Ryan, where's your tie?" She asks and Marty notices for the first time that he's not wearing one.

"It's in the bag. I'm hoping it'll disappear before tonight." Ryan admits.

"All right, my humiliation is now complete," Seth comes out of his cubicle with a tuxedo jacket that is at least two sizes too small and pants six inches too short

"Oh my God," Marty bursts out laughing. She can hear Ryan stifling his own amusement behind her.

"Thank you, sister of mine. Hey Ryan, now that your living in the pool house I should thank you because that means I won't have to put up with the brain draining crap Marty calls music when she paints,"

Marty crosses her arms over her chest and gives her brother her frostiest glare. Seth, however, is always immune to Marty's hints to him to shut his yap.

"There must have been some kind of mix up," Kirsten says going off to find DeeAnna. "And you leave your sister alone. All artists have their little quirks,"

"Right. Marty, you know what? You could go all Van Goh but you could, like, cut off my ears instead. I beg you. There's only so much Mozart a man can take,"

"Mozart?" Ryan asks cocking an eyebrow.

Marty didn't dare look at him to see if he was making fun of her.

"Almost as bad as her N'Sync phase and oh my God, the showtunes! Ryan, you must never leave the poolhouse or the showtunes might return!" Seth drops a hand on Ryan's shoulder pleadingly.

"I seem to remember a certain curly haired Jewish boy who sings along when I play The Sound of Music," Marty shoots back, her cheeks burning.

"I've been brainwashed," Seth hisses.

"Right," Ryan laughs with obvious disbelief.

Marty gets the feeling Ryan doesn't laugh often.

She can hear him cursing and she mentally follows them with a few of her own. Marty was hoping that Ryan was getting ready with Seth. She was all set up for a pedicure until she realized the nail polish she wanted was in the poolhouse bathroom. So now she's standing outside, rollers in her hair and cotton between her toes. Dammit. Marty does not want him to see her like this. Not that it matters. It doesn't matter. He's leaving on Monday so it can't matter what he thinks of her anyway. Marty tells herself to stop being such a girl and knocks on the glass.

Ryan pulls at the black tie with a grunt of frustration and does a double take when he sees Marty in the mirror.

"Hey." He slides open the door.

"I was..um...nail polish." Marty explains looking down at her toes.

Ryan follows her gaze and then looks at her in mock confusion. "You wanna borrow some?"

"Ha. Ha." She rolls her eyes. This is better. Let him see her warts and all. No tension. No funny fluttering feelings in her stomach...okay, maybe one or two. But really, it's much better if they're friends, comfortable. If only he didn't look so amazing in that damn tux.

"I'm gonna go get it and leave you to get ready." There really is no graceful way to walk across a room with cotton between your toes, Marty thinks, squeezing her eyes shut.

When she comes back, he's still fussing with the tie.

"It's a really small consolation to know that God doesn't make everything easy for you guys. But it is a consolation." Marty smiles smugly and reaches for his collar. "Tie." She holds out her hand for it and wraps it around his neck.

He catches a roller as it falls out of her hair and Marty is caught between embarrassment and heat at his gaze as he wraps a finger around the stray lock of her hair.

Ryan's finger almost strokes the side of her face but he clears his throat and hands her the roller.

He makes me feel sexy with rollers in my hair, Marty thinks, her breath coming up short. She wants to tackle him to the floor and tell him to never, never leave. Maybe with some wild sweaty sex in between. Marty lowers her eyes, just in case Ryan can read her mind.

"You're all set," she says pinning the stray lock back up. "You...uh...look good." And utterly screwable.

"So do--" Ryan begins but Marty gives an amused grin at the blatant lie. "Or, I'm sure you will." he amends. "Thanks for the help,"

"Sure, but now you have to help me paint my toenails," She jokes.

"Uh, how about no?" Ryan tosses back.

Marty is sucked in to the chaos of the backstage preparations when she arrives for the fashion show. Marissa Copper and her perfectly manicured hair and face make her way over to her and ushers her over to the row of gowns she will be wearing.

"You have about 1 minute for each change, shoes are under there. I've lined them up with each dress and--I thought you were gonna wear your hair up?" Marissa notices with a frustrated sigh.

"Changed my mind. What is this damn thing doing here?" Marty pulls out the blue chiffon dress.

"You're wearing it," Marissa insists.

"I told you, I'm not wearing this thing. It's--" Marty begins to object. The dress is a long backless halter number with the sides cut out and lined with diamonds. It's just on the edge of being too scandalous for Newport society, but respectable enough to be on this stupid rack.

"It's going to look amazing on you," Marissa assures her.

"Of course, you would thinks so," Marty rolls her eyes. "Why don't you wear it?"

"Because it's the show stopper and it would look gaudy if the M.C wears the showstopper, got it?"

"God forbid. We can't have you whoring all the attention now can we? Get someone else to wear it."

"Look, either you wear the gown or you're out of the show, okay?" Marissa threatened, her eyes blazing.

"Fine by me," Marty shot back throwing the gown at her and storming towards the exit.

"Great and I'll just tell everyone how you backed out of the show because you were too much of a spoiled brat--"

"Me? Me?" Marty swiveled back towards her, eyes wide with disbelief. "You, Marissa Cash Cow Cooper, are calling me, 'spoiled'."

"Cohen, I am trying my best to tolerate you for the sake of this fashion show because I know that there are children who are depending on the money we raise tonight," Marissa hissed, towering over Marty with her long, graceful frame. "It's too bad you can't do the same. I'm sure your parents will be very proud and not embarrassed in the least that you've let all those children down."

Marty swallowed a curse and grabbed at the dress. "Give me this damn thing and let's see if it still fits. I had a carrot for breakfast this morning."

A.N: Sorry it's been a while. I've got sooooo many stories up in the air which I always tell myself I'll stop doing that and yet I always end up juggling. (laughs) I'll be working updating this one more regularly.

Joyca: Thanks for your feedback. Hope you like this chapter too!

Ruby Rosetta Red: Thankie very much for your feedback. I like to balance all the drama with humour so things to get too heavy all the time. Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Queen Em: Thanks a lot for your lovely feedback. I'm glad you think Marty and Seth are similar, that's intentional cause I like the idea of Ryan being with someone who's a foil for his broodiness. Seth and Marty definitely rub off on each other having being raised together. (laughs) Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

MG: Thankie for your feedback. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Danz86: Thanks a lot for the compliment! Hope you like this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The lights are in her goddamned eyes and her feet are killing her. Marty is certain that with each dress, the heels are getting progressively higher. The calf length dresses are more than a little gorgeous, the thigh length ones make her feel that everyone can see up between her legs and the ankle length dresses are a bitch to walk in with the damned heels.

But God she feels sexy as all hell, Marty thinks as she bites back a smirk at the applause and whistles. She even thinks she hears a few catcalls. Those are probably from stupid immature boys. Marty fights a smile. Guys are so predictable. Put on a fancy dress and show a little leg and they turn into drooling morons. Was Ryan drooling? Not that she cares.

Did they have a moment back in the poolhouse? Marty can still feel his finger on her face and in her hair.

On second thought, maybe it's a good thing she can't see him.

When she makes her way back behind the curtain, Marissa is changing into a dress, the final one of the night and tosses Marty's dreaded blue number at her. "No attitude! You're doing great." she shouts at Marty.

The dress feels amazing but oy vey! She's just this side of almost nekkid. Marty feels a paralyzing moment of self- consciousness and thinks she can't possibly go out there in a dress with holes so close to her boobs. Her parents are out there for God's sake!

She feels a shove at her back.

"Move your butt!" Marissa shouts pushing her towards the curtain.

Marty mentally promises to pull out Marissa's hair strand by strand as soon as she gets back. Her ears are ringing from the applause and pounding music that can't seem to drown out the gasps of surprise from both sides of the runway.

Own it, Cohen. Own it and don't look at anybody, Marty tells herself, panic and adrenaline pumping through her furiously. There were spotlights sweeping across the room, which made Marty feel a little better. They only sporadically focused on her but she could sometimes see the audience more clearly now. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers, Marty supposes.

She spots a flash of blonde hair and sees her mom beaming up at her proudly and clapping enthusiastically. Her father is clapping too. But the real test was Ryan's reaction. She doesn't get to see his face until she turns back up the runway.

He sits clapping slowly, his eyes wide with appreciation and his mouth open. She sees Seth lean over and close Ryan's mouth for him.

That's right Atwood, eat your heart out, Marty thinks with a triumphant giggle. Okay, so maybe this dress isn't so bad after all.

"We did so great!" Marissa exclaims backstage as everyone passes around glasses of sparkling cider.

"Any idea about the total yet?" someone asks as Marty takes off her shoes. She drops a good three inches of height and comes up to Marissa's shoulder. Lovely, Marty mentally grumbles. Not only is the girl more gorgeous than should be allowed by the universe but she's of course all graceful and...what's that word?...Lithe?

Not that Marty was jealous. That would be stupid, Marty tells herself. She had plenty of things going for her. She was smart, rich, likeable. But she was not hot. Not Marissa Cooper hot. Guys liked Marissa Cooper's kind of hot. The delicate wounded waif look was very in. Marty didn't think she could pout if someone paid her.

Though Ryan did look at her like she was a knockout and he was the only guy whose opinion really mattered to her. Oh yeah, there was definitely a spark there.

"They're still counting but you can bet we cleaned house. Congratulations you guys!" Marissa raised her glass. "Now let's party!" She clinked her glass with her best friend, Summer, who howled in agreement.

Back in her regular clothes, a spring dress with strappy sandals, Marty made her down the stairs on the right side of the runway towards her parents.

"Look out Ms Cindy Crawford," Seth exclaims dramatically.

"Sweetie you were wonderful!" Kirsten reaches across Seth and pulls Marty towards her.

"Thanks." Marty replies, pleased.

"My little girl in that dress--" Sandy sighs proudly.

"Oh dad, you're not gonna give the whole 'where has the time gone?' speech are you?" she groans.

"No, I was actually gonna give that whole 'I wish there had been more dress on that last dress.' speech," Sandy says.

"Trust me, so did I" Marty insists blushing.

"Are you kidding? That dress was gorgeous, Marty and you looked exquisite in it," Kirsten assures her.

Their heads turned to the as yet silent voice of the fifth person in their group.

Ryan starts uncomfortably. "I...you looked good."

Marty rolls her eyes but smiles "Thanks."

"It just so happens that I put a bid on that last dress you wore and it's yours now," her mother informs her. "Shall we go pick it up?"

"What? Mom, come on. When am I ever gonna wear that dress again?" Marty objects as Kirsten begins to lead her to the lobby where the other bidders are picking up their purchases.

As she leaves she hears Seth scoff at Ryan, "Good? Dude, your tongue was on the floor."

Nope, not so bad after all, Marty thinks blushing when Kirsten hands her the dress.

Her brother calls out to her as she makes her way back from dancing with Max O' Neil, a senior with smiling blue eyes that remind her of Ryan, who hasn't asked her to dance. Marty's promised herself that after this one she was going to track him down and ask him, but so far he and her brother have been out in the parking lot. Smoking? Marty wonders uncomfortably. In the short time Ryan's been there, she's seen her brother stick to him with something close to idol worship. Ryan doesn't seem like the type to pressure Seth but she knows her brother. He's found a kindred spirit in Ryan and would certainly want to seem cool to someone like him.

She's relieved when he comes up to her and doesn't smell like smoke. Marty smiles. Ryan's a good guy. She knows he is.

"Ryan and I just got invited to a party at a beach house," He's practically jumping for joy and if it wasn't at the house that Marissa Cooper, Summer Roberts and their band of merry bimbo's, she'd be excited for him." "Wanna come?"

Ryan is leaving tomorrow; back to his world which Marty is glaringly reminded is not her world. Part of her wants to go, to spend every minute she can with him but...Marissa Cooper et al? And now that the excitement of the night has waned, sleepiness has begun to set in.

"Brother, I love you but I would really rather stick needles in my eyeballs than spend anymore time in the vicinity of Cooper and her cronies," She tries to stifle a yawn but was unsuccessful.

Seth nods with understanding. "Gotcha. And really, Summer is gonna be there and I'd rather not have someone around who knows that I used to be able to blow snot bubbles on command."

"Used to?" Marty asks with a teasing smile.

"Go home and paint, sister," Seth turns her around pushes her towards their parents.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Marty makes her way to the kitchen at about one in the morning to get a glass of water when she sees the poolhouse light on. She hasn't heard Seth come in and has a brief image of her little brother stumbling drunk while Ryan tries to sober him up. Cohen, you are such a mom, she thinks, mentally slapping herself. Still, she has always looked out for Seth and it's a hard habit to break. For all his bravado and wise cracking, there's an innocence to Seth that Marty loves. She's sure Ryan wouldn't let him get hurt but she doesn't really want Seth learning about the world through the jaded eyes of Ryan Atwood.

A sentiment their mom echoes if her unease around Ryan is any indication. Kirsten is polite, good-natured and she has been wonderfully mothering to Ryan but his roughness is not something she's comfortable having around.

Marty makes her way around the pool in her pink satin pajama pants and black 'SuperBitch' t-shirt under the guise of just being curious about the party. Which she is; she just wants to know what a party consisting of Newport's debauched teenagers may have done to her brother.

And she wants to see Ryan alone for a while before he has to leave.

But really, it's the mothering instinct she inherited from Kirsten that drives her.

And it's that instinct that makes her want to give Ryan Atwood another black eye to match the one he is now sporting.

"What the hell happened to you two?" She slides the door open with a gasp. Seth is on the edge of Ryan's bed, holding a bag of ice to his lip. His suit is disheveled and ripped on his left arm. There is a small bleeding gash on his forehead and one of his eyes is beginning to swell.

"Luke Ward and his buddies beat the crap out of us," Seth replies with a grimace. "But we were totally outnumbered and trust me, mano a mano, we would have totally obliterated him. Ryan was like a machine!"

Marty turns and glares at the 'machine'. Ryan glances up at her guiltily and with a flash of irritation that tells her he really doesn't want to get a lecture.

Oh really? Marty crosses her arms ready to give him an earful.

"He totally had my back out there so can we just keep this quiet?" Seth asks.

A small voice whispers that it was a good thing Ryan was there or else Seth could have had to face Luke and his asshats alone.

A louder voice wonders if Ryan had instigated the fight himself.

"I think the mangled condition of your face will raise a question or two at breakfast tomorrow," she reminds Seth.

"Fine, then I'll tell them what happened but can we just table the mother hen ranting until tomorrow? My face hurts with like, 13 different kinds of pain right now," Seth tells her with a groan.

"Oh that's great. Thank you so much, Ryan."

"Excuse me?" Ryan scowls getting to his feet.

"Yeah, excuse me?" Seth echoes. "Ow. I'll just sit here and glare up at you belligerently." He lets out hiss and gingerly dabs at his lip with the ice pack.

"What the hell were you thinking? Did it not occur to you to just get him out of there when Luke started flapping his silver spooned yap?"

"Considering that that silver spooned bastard was kicking the crap out of your brother when I first saw him it was a little late for a quick get away," Ryan shoots back, blue eyes blazing defiantly as he gets up and stares down at her.

"Thanks man," Seth replies sarcastically. "Look, Marty it was the same old, same old, okay? Only this time, I had Ryan on my side. Luke and his polo buddies started in on me, Ryan tried to take them out. He did a good thing here so I'd appreciate it if you cut the mom act and just say 'thank you' Now can we all go to bed? Tomorrow is gonna be depressing enough."

The rush of sadness she sees in her brother's eyes goes a long way in deflating Marty's anger. She feels her own surge of sadness at the reminder that Ryan will be leaving them tomorrow. God, she doesn't want them to part on bad terms.

She doesn't want him to leave at all.

He was protecting her brother and got his ass kicked, not to mention her tantrum for his trouble. He hadn't instigated anything.

Dammit. Marty, you're an idiot, she tells herself.

"I..." She closes her eyes, and sighs. "Seth, can you leave us alone?"

"Sooo you can kill him without witnesses?"

Marty gives her brother a small smile.

"Goodnight, man. See you in the morning," Ryan tells him, throwing Marty a look that tells her he's not sure that Seth isn't right.

"You just holler if she tries anything. I got your back," Seth promises cheekily then leaves them alone.

She doesn't know what to say. Marty has never been good at apologies.

"Can I show you something?" She leads Ryan to the row of frames she has on the wall closest to the bathroom. "I drew these for my family. Kind of like, portraits of them, I guess. Or how I see them anyway."

"I wondered about these." Ryan admits giving her a glance of confusion.

"I know. You probably think they're stupid," Marty shrugs blushing.

"No, no. I just...don't get them. But then again, I was never that into art," Ryan tells her with a small embarrassed smile.

"Well, this one is my dad." She points at the first with a soft note of pride.

"It's a straight line." Ryan points out and she can hear the confusion in his voice.

"That's what he is to me. Straight. Constant. Never looking back always moving forward. Every time I do something wrong, he tells me 'alright kiddo, that's done. Now look ahead and do better.' "

She moves to the next frame. A triangle. "This is my mom. Every point is connected to each other and each line would fall apart without that top meeting point. So I guess, she's the top really. She's definitely where we all meet and hold."

"I envy you," Ryan admits, his voice choked. Their eyes hold and Marty wants to take him in her arms because he never had what she has. And now he has to go back to that emptiness. It breaks her heart and she has to look away to hide the tears that threaten.

"This is Seth, I'm guessing," Ryan remarks with an amused smile.

It's a figure eight. "Seth is loopy." She affirms with a laugh. "He's this constant, wonderful craziness that just never ends. The curves flow into each other. Unbreakable and I can never look at this one without smiling." Her smile fades and she feels her cheeks redden. "Like I said, it's kinda dumb I guess."

"No it's not. You're damned lucky," Ryan reminds her.

"I know." Marty assures him. Her heart gives a little flip at the knowledge that he doesn't think she's a sentimental ditz. Then she gives him a shy smile. "I...kinda made you one. Just something to take with you if you want."

He looks at her with a surprised smile. She reaches behind a propped up easel and hands Ryan the sheet of paper.

"It's a circle," He says taking the paper and holding it.

"You're the center. That's you. To show you nothing ends. Everything comes back again. Like maybe someday...you'll come back." Marty tries not to let him see her cry.

"Maybe," he says thickly after a long time and they both don't believe it.

She needs to touch him. She turns to him and blinks back her tears. Who is this guy that affects her so totally that she just wants to fall into his arms and never let go? Marty places her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about before. Thank you for looking out for Seth."

"He's a good kid." This time it's Ryan who turns away and takes a deep breath, swallowing hard.

"He' s..We're...I'm gonna miss you," Marty tells him, feeling her tears spill over. She wipes at them quickly but Ryan has seen them.

He lifts a hand to her face and wipes at the damp skin. Marty takes a step closer and pulls his mouth to hers, unable to stop the tide of simmering emotion from boiling over.

Ryan pulls her up against him, digging a hand through her dark hair and filling her mouth with the taste of him, telling her without words that he is going to miss her too.

A.N: I just wanted to make a note that while some of this saga will follow the show as is, I will sometimes be changing stuff around and adding new twists.

Danz86: Thankie muchly for your feedback. I hope you like this chapter too!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Ryan broke their kiss, but kept his arms around her, his fingers dancing lightly at the base of her spine. His touch met bare skin, her t-shirt having ridden up slightly.

"Jesus Christ on a plate," Marty sighed, her forehead resting against his chin. "This sucks."

He gave a short choked laugh. "Thanks."

Realizing how it had sounded as if she had insulted him, she giggled and shook her head. "No. No suckage there. Believe me. Any chance I can keep you hidden in my closet so you don't have to leave tomorrow?"

He took a deep, uneven breath and lowered his arms, making Marty shiver at the sudden lack of warmth. "I wouldn't mix in well with all your Gucci and Chanel outfits in there." He tried for lightness but Marty bit her lip and wiped her cheeks, willing herself to remain dry eyed from now on.

He was right of course. This place would chew him up and spit him out. How could Ryan Atwood from Chino ever fit in her world? Maybe this place would turn him into a polo shirt wearing, Beemer driving tool. An unbidden image of Luke Ward popped into Marty's head and she shuddered.

"It's probably best if we just leave it like this," Ryan assured her with a small smile, his blue eyes sad.

"Newport is gonna be so boring again tomorrow."

"I'm sure you can cause enough trouble to keep that from happening. You could always hit Luke with your car again if things get too mundane."

Marty snorted and then cringed at the less than pretty sound. Ah what the hell. It wasn't as if she had to impress the guy. He was leaving in ten hours.

Panic rolled in her chest at the reality of the minutes ticking by and she was almost tempted to ask if she could stay. Here. With Him. All Night. _Good God, Cohen! You're like a cat looking for a scratching post! _But no, Margaret Rachel Cohen was too much of a goody-goody to just sleep with this handsome stranger…who didn't feel like a stranger at all. That was it really. There was something about Ryan that connected with her. Maybe it was the down-on-his-luck vibe that she responded to. The Fix-It gene had seemed to be concentrated in her, coming from two Fix-It parents. She wanted to fix him, take that sad kicked puppy look in his eyes and make whatever put it there go away, never to return.

"Any chance you would…want to…um…keep in touch?" Marty asked, hating the wistful quality in her voice.

His expression became guarded, wary and Marty could have kicked herself. _Way to throw yourself at him, Cohen._ "Sure," he said, practically choking on the word.

"Liar," Marty said, narrowing her eyes at him.

He blinked, blue eyes going wide but Marty shrugged and poked his shoulder. "But that's okay. I get it. Clean break, right? Just…Well, if you need anything, a friend or whatever. "

"Yeah, I know." He rubbed the back of his neck and turned away from her. "I should turn in. Want to get an early start tomorrow."

"Sure," Marty agreed though she was fighting an internal battle not to simply sit on him to keep him from leaving. "Okay. Goodnight." She couldn't make herself move to the door.

Ryan gave her an amused grin. "You planning to spend the night?"

Now she could move. Marty jumped, startled and turned to leave, but a dirty little voice in her head made her spin on her heel back to him and grab the sides of his face for one last delicious kiss.

"Hmmngh," Ryan moaned, shaking his head to clear it when they finally came back up for air.

"One for the road," she explained patting his cheek and leaving before she could talk herself out of it.

Marty opened on eye, realized it was morning and resolutely shut it again. It couldn't be tomorrow if she wasn't awake, so she'd simply go back to sleep.

But the wonderful smell of coffee was teasing her nose, refusing to let her fall back into a rather delicious dream featuring their brooding pool house visitor.

"Maaaan," she groaned, burying her face in her pillow. With a frustrated sigh, Marty sat up and decided to go deal with the inevitable on a full stomach.

The sight that greeted her made her go a little weak in the knees. Instead of her dad at the stove, flipping pancakes, Ryan stood, flipping pancakes and pulling strips of bacon from another pan. Marty crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling in consternation. "And he cooks too?" she mouthed. Figures it'd be too good to be true if he actually stayed.

Her mother came up behind her and Marty heard her gasp of surprise. "Did you make breakfast?"

Ryan turned in surprise but shrugged nonchalantly. "Do it all the time at home."

Home. Which was not here.

Despite the yummy food, breakfast was a maudlin affair. She tried to avoid looking Ryan in the eye and she could tell he was trying to do the same by the flush in his cheeks. When their eyes would meet, Marty felt as if she received a physical jolt every time.

Not to mention that she could still feel his kiss on her lips.

She stood between her mom and Seth as Sandy brought the car out and Ryan waited to get in. Marty handed him the portrait she had drawn and he nodded his thanks, swallowing hard. This was it. Marty wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close in a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before gingerly hugging her back and lowering his face into her hair. "Ya'll come back now, ya hear?" she joked, her voice thick with the effort to fight tears.

Ryan snorted and gave her a sweet smile.

She blinked back the glistening in her eyes and let her mom and Seth say their goodbyes. Kirsten turned back inside the house as Sandy and Ryan pulled out of the driveway. She took a seat next to her brother on the steps.

"This blows," Seth groaned.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss him too." Marty rubbed his back sympathetically.

"The first genuinely cool guy I can hang out with and it's like, 'Sorry, life sucks and I gotta go back to Broodville.'

"Yeah and he was so damned hot too," Marty grumbled ruefully lowering her head.

Seth stared at her. "Do you not get that I'm not a female?"

Marty smiled at him. "Relax, if I wanted to embarrass you I would have mentioned that he was a good kisser too."

"Dude, you kissed him? When did this happen?" Seth asked in shock. Then shook his head and covered his ears. "Never mind. I don't need any fleshing out of that particular milestone."

Marty laughed weakly then took a deep breath, determined to put Ryan Atwood out of her head and get on with the rest of her life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

She threw herself into volunteering an extra day at the hospital, not wanting to stay around the Ryan-less house. The kids made it easier, entertaining her with silly knock -knock jokes. Little Katie Adams who was suffering from a broken foot stuck cotton balls up her nose and pretended to sneeze out 'snow boogers'.

On her lunch break, Marissa Cooper came up to her with a small gift box. Before she could make a quick get away and not be seen, Cooper was heading her way, her best friend Summer Roberts in tow, as usual.

"Hey, Marty," Marissa smiled her perfect even smile. "I went by your house to give you this but your mom said you were picking up an extra shift here."

"Yeah, well, I figured the more hours I put in the quicker I could get my sentence for running over your boyfriend over with."

Marissa's smile wavered slightly. "All the girls who helped out at the fashion show get a little something. My way of saying thanks. You did an awesome job."

Marty reluctantly took the grey velvet box that was about the size of her hand. She held it up to her ear. "I don't hear any ticking."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, I appreciated your help, okay? See you around."

"Yeah, Later Marty," Summer said with a fake smile. "Don't run over any stray kittens."

Marty threw her a dirty look and opened the box. She bit back a gasp of surprise. A diamond tennis bracelet. "Hey Cooper!" she called out just before Marissa and Summer made it to the cafeteria doorway.

Marissa and her perfect hair turned elegantly in one smooth movement.

Marty held up the bracelet with her forefinger. "Cubic Zirconia, right?"

"Of course," Marissa said with a grin that made Marty wonder if she was lying. The two girls turned and left, giggling their similar Newport giggles.

For a brief second, Marty wondered if her sadness over Ryan was making her look for friendly faces were there obviously were none.

That kiss must have killed a few brain cells, she decided.

Marty was actually looking forward to getting back into the pool house to do some painting, even considering it was now empty again. Good, she told herself. It wasn't healthy to harp on things that just weren't going to happen. Ryan was just some weird hormonal glitch obviously and she'd simply move past it and things would get back to normal.

That plan lasted all of the remaining two hours in her shift. Getting back home, she was so intent on going up to her room to pick up some new brushes that she simply waved at Seth and Ryan, seated on the floor playing video games.

_And Ryan. _

Marty got halfway up the stairs when it hit her, right in the chest with giddy ferocity and she slowly made her way back down the stairs and to the living room.

"Hey," Seth called out absently.

"Hey," she replied.

"Hey," Ryan said looking at her, his blue eyes intense.

"Hey," she answered in confusion.

"Oh. Funny story. Ryan's living with us now," Seth explained with a smug smile.

"Oh. Is that right?" She didn't spare a glance for her brother, staring at Ryan in disbelief.

"Yeah, Seth, uh. I'll be back." Ryan set the video game controller down and motioned for her to follow him outside.

She followed him to the pool house. Once they were alone Marty squealed with delight and threw her arms around him. "Oh my God! I can't believe your back. And was Seth just joking around? Are you really gonna be living with us now?"

Ryan slowly pulled back so that she was forced to let go of him. Her chest tightened with nervousness.

"Yeah, but…we gotta talk Marty."

"Okay," Marty said slowly, not sure she was going to like what he was going to say.

"My mom took off, okay?" Ryan explained, his jaw tightening. "I got to my house and everything was gone. Clothes, furniture, everything."

"Wait, she just…left?" Marty asked, a hand going to her mouth in horrified disbelief.

"Yeah," he said in a small voice.

"My God, Ryan…I'm so-" Marty reached for him again but he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Right, well. Sandy said I could stay with you guys. It's nothing permanent, just until I can get myself together, you know? Get a job, my own place."

"Sure, okay. That's awesome," Marty reached for him again and for a second, it looked as if he was going to kiss her again but instead he simply leaned in for a moment, resting his forehead against hers. The moonlit waves from the pool outside were making silvery shadows across his cheek and Marty couldn't resist running her fingers along his skin. He was back, Marty thought, hard pressed to find a moment she'd felt this ridiculously ecstatic.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Look, Marty. If I-" he stopped and stood, stepping away from the bed. She sat up and stared at him, biting her lip at the stern expression on his face. "If I'm gonna stay here…then…what happened before can't happen again."

She wished she could have played coy and pretended she didn't know what he was talking about but she was too busy feeling the dagger twist in the pit of her stomach. "Why?"

"Come on. You know why. Sandy and Kirsten are giving me an incredible shot here. I can't do that to them."

"But…" Marty wanted to scream in frustration. "God. Be careful what you wish for, huh?" She wished he didn't have to leave. Well he was back, but God thought he'd have a little fun with her by giving the boy she wanted scruples.

He shrugged and grinned ruefully. "Yeah."

"But…Well, they don't have to know, right?" Marty asked, even as her conscience bitch-slapped her. She was not one of these Newport floozies who snuck around with any guy or guys, plural, no matter who it hurt. She'd feel like she'd be revoking her Cohen-ish-ness by going against what Sandy and Kirsten taught her.

Though to be fair, they never specifically said, 'Don't make the dirty with the juvenile delinquent we have living with us".

"I'd know," Ryan replied grimly.

She wanted to grab the thin choker around his neck and…well, choke him with it. Just a little. Just until he turned a little blue and a little less honourable.

"Maaaaan," Marty whined. "So what? We just…pretend it didn't happen?"

"No. We just…stay friends." Ryan grimaced and Marty felt a little heartened knowing this wasn't as easy for him either.

"Friends. Ugh. That holds about as much appeal right now as shovelling manure in the middle of a heat wave. Not that I've ever shovelled manure, but you get what I mean."

"Gotcha," Ryan agreed.

Marty sighed. "Okay, I guess we can do the friend thing. But just to be clear, if you weren't living with us, would you-"

"Oh, white on rice," he replied softly but quickly.

Marty beamed at him and got to her feet. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Sweet dreams, buddy." She felt his eyes on her as she left the pool house.

Okay, so while he was living with them nothing would happen. Sure, that was the right thing to do. But it didn't mean she couldn't give him some incentive every once in a while to look for another roof to occupy.

Marty wasn't all that experienced in the art of flirtation and driving men to distraction but she was a Cohen and Cohen's never quit. She planned to make it very hard for him to resist her.

Pun intended.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Marty knocked on the door to the pool house and waited for Ryan to open it. She saw a beat of something in his eyes that made her stomach do a very pleasant flip before the wall went up in his gaze. She bit back a sigh of frustration. The line was there between them and he was not going to cross it.

"Hey," he said, his voice wary, as if she expected him to jump him any second now.

Really. She liked to think she had more tact and pride than that. Though no one had really tested them before Ryan Atwood.

She motioned to the grey bin she held. "I came to clear out my art and paints and stuff. Give you some more room. I'm not sure you'll be able to get the turpentine smell out completely though. Sorry about that."

"Oh. Uh, sure. Why?" Ryan asked moving back and taking the bin from her.

"Well, I'm setting up a studio in the garage since your-"

"You don't have to do that. I mean, I'm not taking your studio away from you. We can work something out, right?"

"No Ryan, really. They'll be too much mess and the smell. This is your place now." Marty reminded him.

"Come on, it's not like its permanent. Soon as I get my own place-"

"What do you suggest, Ryan? We split a line down the middle of the room?" Marty asked, rolling her eyes. "It'll just be easier if I take my stuff out and move it to the garage," She grabbed the bin back and started throwing her brushes inside.

She stopped when she noticed the picture she had drawn for him was back up on the wall next the drawings of the rest of her family. A lump formed in her throat. He followed her gaze, but said nothing, just looked away as if embarrassed and quickly grabbed her bin back.

"Don't be stupid. You can come in and paint whenever you want. I'd kinda like to see how you do it, if you wouldn't mind. I'm just gonna use the place to sleep anyway."

"No, don't do that." Marty grabbed the bin and turned away from him so he couldn't grab it again. She gently placed a few small cans of paint inside. "We said you could stay here. This is your home now."

"Whoa, hang on. No. It's really not," Ryan insisted, his eyes almost panicked. "I'm getting a job and finding my own place. I'm not freeloading off your folks, Marty."

"Oh!" Marty waved his statement away and blew a raspberry at him. She grabbed for another jar but Ryan reached for the bin, stopping her.

"Seriously. You can keep your stuff here. We can just work out a schedule or-"

"Ryan, really. I don't want you to have to-"

"No it's no-"

_Plop!_

With all the jostling of the bin between them, a can of yellow paint slipped over the rim and landed with a dull thud on the carpet, sending a healthy splash of paint up against Ryan's black jeans.

Marty gasped and quickly set the bin down. "Oh no. Dammit. She rushed to pull out one of the rags in her bin along with the dishwashing detergent she kept quick spills. The water can she used was out of water so when she got on her knees to try and rub the stain out, she could only do a half ass job. The paint had splattered enthusiastically up to just near his upper thigh.

"Uh, Marty. It's okay. You don't have-I mean. I got it. It's all right." Ryan leaned down stop her but Marty felt guilty as hell so she pushed his hands away.

"Crap, it's not gonna get it all out. You're gonna have to get these in the wash quick." Then without thinking, she started unbuttoning the top of his jeans.

"Marty, you can't-" Ryan protested, his voice hoarse and Marty suddenly realized why. She blinked at the more pronounced part of his anatomy that was about five inches away from her nose.

She looked up at him in surprise. She didn't think she could duplicate that particular shade of red on his face with her paints if she tried.

She shouldn't smile, but Marty couldn't help it.

He looked down at her and his embarrassment grew, if the flush of his face was any indication.

"Margaret Rachel Cohen!" her mother's voice snapped through the room like a very angry elastic band in the back of Marty's head.

Marty looked over at her mom in confusion over why her mom sounded so pissed until Marty remembered she was on her knees, a mere hand's width away from Ryan's crotch. "Oh!"

She scrambled to her feet. Ryan reached down and gripped her arms to help her, sending a delicious shiver of lightening through her. But that would have to be enjoyed in her mind later. Getting middle named was never good. "I…he…paint…just…pants," Marty rambled, wondering if her face was quite matched Ryan's shade yet.

Probably not as his face seemed to be getting darker.

"Get in the house. Now." Kirsten ordered speaking to her daughter, though her eyes remained on Ryan as if she wanted to castrate him. With no anaesthesia.

"Mommy, you have a dirty mind and I resent that you'd think that I-" Marty thought it a stronger position to stand on if she took the offensive. Her dad told her, the best defence was a good offence.

"Inside," Kirsten repeated.

"Don't get mad at Ryan, please. We really weren't-"

Kirsten pointed a finger sharply towards the house. Marty took her time walking back into the house, looking back over her shoulder constantly to see if her mother was tearing Ryan a new one.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

She sat in the dark kitchen for ten minutes before Kirsten returned. Her mother stood in the doorway for a few seconds, arms crossed over her chest. "I know you weren't doing anything wrong, Marty. I just…reacted instinctively I suppose. It's just the way you were-Well, it was the first thing I saw and I lost it. I apologize." She walked towards Marty and leaned against the counter next to her.

"Apology accepted. But really mom, I thought you'd give me more credit than to get my freak on with the guy with you guys' right here."

"Marty, I don't want you getting your…well, anything on with that boy. He's not the right-"

Marty raised an eyebrow. It was well documented that Kirsten's family did not approve of Sandy Cohen and tensions still ran high between Sandy and Marty's grandfather Caleb.

"He's got a lot of things to work through. We're still waiting to here from his mother and if we can't get a hold of her then-"

"You can't seriously be telling me you're going to send him back to his mother!" Marty said open mouthed.

"It's either that or social services will send him to a group home," Kirsten replied sadly.

"But no! He's going to get a job and…" Marty closed her eyes. "He knows this doesn't he? The whole thing about getting his own place was just a cover right?"

"He didn't want you and Seth to know."

"God, does Seth know yet? This is gonna crush him."

"This is exactly why I don't want you getting attached to Ryan, Marty."

Marty shrugged, trying to give the impression that it didn't really matter when inside, there was a heavy weight in her chest. "Who's attached? He's a great guy and he's getting a raw deal and I just feel bad for him. It's not fair, mom." Marty lowered her head so that Kirsten couldn't see the glistening in her eyes.

Kirsten leaned over and drew Marty into her arms. "I know, honey."

The endearment nearly broke Marty's resolve not to cry but she forced herself to hold the tears back. "The one guy…"

Kirsten rubbed her back soothingly and Marty knew she was seconds away from breaking, which is probably what her mother was going for. She was very big on expressing feelings. Maybe because her own father was such a hard man.

"Do you understand now why it's best if you keep your distance? I don't want you getting hurt and I imagine it'll be hard for Ryan too. He doesn't seem to have that many friends. God, you're right. This sucks," Kirsten said grimly.

A giggle broke through and Marty was able to stop the potential sob. She pulled back and sniffled.

"Not that I don't trust you but I get the whole attraction to the rebel thing. I think it's ingrained in the female DNA to be drawn to the bad boy. How do you think you're father and I got together?"

"Is that supposed to be a deterrent 'cause from where I'm standing you and dad have a pretty good thing going."

Kirsten grimaced and smiled. "Okay, bad example."

Relax mom. We're just friends," Marty said. _Much to my chagrin, dammit._ She added to in her head.

"Friends. Good." Kirsten kissed her daughter's cheek. "You need to find a nice guy who you can spend time with, have fun together, get to know each other. Someone without a prison record and too many problems to name."

"I know every guy in Newport, mom. Not so much with the potential boyfriend material."

"Promise me you'll try, okay. I'd hate it if you were to pin your hopes on someone who isn't sticking around."

"Mom, I told you. We're just friends. No pinning going on anywhere," Marty assured her.

Kirsten cocked an eyebrow, not sure if her daughter was being a smart ass or not. "Go to bed," she said.

Well, she passed her _bed_room on the way to Seth's so technically Marty didn't think she was disobeying her.

"You asleep?" Marty asked through her brother's door after knocking.

Grumbling on the other side.

She took this as her cue to enter. She slowly stuck her head in. "Can I come in?"

Seth lifted his head and opened one brown eye. "If I say no, will you let me go back to sleep?"

"Nope," Marty replied.

More grumbling, but he was sitting up so Marty came in and took a seat at his desk, bringing the swivel chair closer to his bed.

"What?"

"I have bad news, but I think if we put our heads together we could figure out a way to fix it."

"Bad news that can't wait until morning?" he asked yawning, his dark curls standing out in comical disarray.

"If Ryan's mom doesn't come back for him, social services is gonna send him to a home," Marty explained, the words making her queasy.

Seth jerked and his face paled. "Way to just blurt it out like that, geez! Okay, now I'm awake. Are you serious?"

"Very. Now we can't let him to go back to his lush of a mother and God only knows what's gonna happen to him in a group home. I saw this one episode of Dateline where these poor kids-"

"Okay, focus, Marty." He rubbed his eyes, trying to make himself more alert. "What we need, besides a miracle of epic proportions is to buy some time,"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Any suggestions?" Marty asked, biting a thumbnail.

"Off the top of my head? I know a place Ryan could hide out. Mom's working on this house-"

Marty straightened, a flicker of excitement starting in her stomach. "I saw it! She's had the mock up in the kitchen yesterday. But…We're gonna hide Ryan there? What happens when they bring in the workers?"

"By then it'll be your turn to come up with something," Seth informed her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Keep it simple, stupid. That was the essence of any great plan. Marty felt that following that criteria, really, they couldn't fail. She forgot that one must always have a contingency plan just in case glamorous looking next door neighbours poked their perky little noses where it didn't belong; threatening to toss said brilliant plan down the commode.

Before Seth could let Ryan in on their plan, he was half way out the pool house door, planning to make a mid night break for it, avoiding the need for any brilliant plans all together.

Never let it be said that a Cohen wavered from their chosen course though. Seth made him see how much better it would be if he simply towed the party line and follow where a Cohen led.

She didn't know if Ryan was impressed by the fool proof plan or not but he followed. Or rather, waited as Marty and Seth snuck out of the house, well supplied for their adventure.

And found Ryan at the end of the driveway, nonchalantly chatting with said glamorous looking perky nosed next door neighbour.

Marissa was smiling at him and doing that nauseating hair flip thing that she'd perfected at the age of four that made all the boys go goo goo eyed over her.

When Marty was seven years old, she was going to play Little Red Riding Hood in the school play but instead caught the chicken pox from Toby Advereaux. Marissa got to play the part instead.

The next day, Marty threw her in the pool at the school charity barbecue.

Marissa retaliated by eating 6 hotdogs and throwing up on her.

Then the "Red Riding Hood" robe that Marissa got to keep 'mysteriously' went missing.

If Ryan had been small enough, Marty would have grabbed him and stuffed him under her shirt like she had the red costume and run like hell. _Mine! _The seven year old girl inside of her screamed. _Mine! Mine! Mine!_

But she simply smiled and made her way towards them.

Well, she thought it was a smile but maybe, judging by the guarded expression on Marissa's face it was a good thing that Marty hadn't gotten that part in the play because apparently she was not that good an actress.

Smiled. Sneered. Potato/Pot-ah-to.

And then. 'That's a great plan. Who are you going to get to drive you?"

WHAT?

"We'll walk. Thanks," Marty barely ground out.

"Don't be stupid. You'll draw less attention at this hour if I drive you than if you're on that thing," Marissa pointed down to Seth's skateboard. "You can't drive except to and from the community center," she added to Marty who was mentally counting to ten and trying to imagine what Marissa would look like bald. "That leaves me."

"Sounds like a good idea," Ryan offered.

_Judas._

"Don't you have some pressing social engagement or something?" Marty asked narrowing her eyes at Marissa. _Hands off, bitch. He's mine._

Marissa narrowed her eyes right back. _Message received. I don't care and I'm not above throwing up on you again._

And so at a stalemate, Marty found herself in the backseat of Marissa's car sitting next to her brother while Ryan sat in the front with Marissa like some happy little couple.

She sat in the back and glowered while she absorbed the fact that Marissa shared her brother's taste in music while Ryan was apparently tone deaf and didn't really listen to music.

"Dude, that's kind of weird," Seth injected.

Indeed. Marty felt like she had entered some bizarre twilight zone universe where Ryan, someone she thought had more functioning brain cells than to be charmed by the likes of Marissa Cooper, seemed to be just as susceptible to her as every other male under the age of twenty-one.

Punk. Marissa 'Prissy' Cooper liked punk.

"Uh, I'm sorry. Avril Lavigne is not punk," Marty added unable to concede that she and Marissa Cooper would ever have anything in common. She thought it showed great maturity that she didn't stick her tongue out at her as well.

Then they were at the model home. "Thanks for the ride," Marty said in very clear dismissal.

Marissa followed them inside. "So what's the plan here? You're just gonna hide out until the construction guys show up?"

"I worked construction with one of my mom's boyfriend's last summer. He's in Austin now and he said to look him up if I was in town and needed a job."

"In Texas," Marissa remarked none too happy about that idea.

"Ding. Ding," Marty dramatically tapped her nose.

"Look, what is your problem with me, Marty?" Marissa finally snapped. "I've always only ever been nice to you and all I get are bitchy sarcastic remarks."

"Uh, can we focus here?" Seth asked stepping in between the two of them, diffusing a potential nuclear situation that would make Chechnya look like a bottle rocket. He was good at that, her little peace maker brother.

Now though, Marty wished he could concentrate his efforts somewhere else. Iraq maybe?

"Dude, I was thinking you could find a place somewhere a little closer so we could still hang out,"

_Yes. Stay. Let's stay together for the sake of the kid,_ Marty thought wryly.

What was her problem? That was it in a nutshell. Whether she lost him to Marissa's considerable charms, to the social service jungle or to Texas, Marty knew she was losing the one guy who could potentially be 'the one'.

And that scared her.


End file.
